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Friday, 19 October 2012

I wish there was a simple answer to this. I wish I could tell you that I had some sort of huge reveal or dream where everything was laid out in front of me and someone said, “This is what you shall do, my child,” or however epiphanies happen. I wish I could say any of those things.

But I can’t. Because I’ll be honest with you, this is one of the most over-hyped, under-appreciated, under paid jobs out there. If I had a single lick of sense, I would not be doing this. I would have gone to law school or grad school or done something with much more tangible and monetary benefits. Even now, when I’m dealing with a horrible table or horrible chapter or horrible anything, I remind myself I don’t have to do this. I don’t have to write.

But that’s a lie. Because I do.

I write because my imagination is just too big to not write. There are ideas and things just constantly going through my head, fighting for dominance. I’ll be cutting cantaloupe and dialogue will just pop into my head. I’ll be sitting at the bar and entire action sequences will play out in front of me, start to finish.

I write because there are stories that, pretentious as it may sound, the world needs to hear. Whether it’s something as simple as the idea that hope will always survive or something as complex as religion, I believe there are stories and ideas that need to be told. I do my best to tell them. I’ll admit that I’m not perfect and that I’ve had to work to refine my voice but I think in the end I’ve come out better for it. The focus is on the stories now, not the person telling them.

I write because I have to. It’s as simple as that.

L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She is the author of the Jude Magdalyn Series as well as New Moon Rising, featuring Cari Gravier, and Taken, featuring Frankie Post. She is currently at work on the next book in the Moon Rising series, Harvest Moon Rising, due out April 2012. Ms. Pruitt makes her home in Florida with two cats--one smart, the other not so much.

“If someone doesn’t get me a lemon in the next five minutes, everyone will suffer. A lot.”

“Jude, I love you. Which is why I can say you’re being just a little overdramatic.” One look at my face and Theo changed his tune. “But then again, you could say pregnancy is dramatic and you’re just getting into the groove.”

“Nice save.” I tried to sit up again. Halfway through the upward movement greasy waves of nausea rolled over me and I eased back down onto the pillow. Strands of black hair clung to my sweaty face and I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. “Not as nice as that lemon would be right now, but nice.”

“Elizabeth will be here in a moment. No doubt she’ll have a lemon. And tea. And toast.” Theo turned over to face me, laying one hand over my still mostly flat stomach. If you looked close, you could see the smallest of bumps.

I know, because I checked. Every other day or so.

If anybody told me three months ago, that the week before Halloween, I’d be lying in bed with a man who absolutely adored me—even the crazy parts—I’d have asked them what the hell they were smoking. If they’d thrown in being pregnant, I would have punched them in their jaw. Then gone to the store and bought a dozen pregnancy tests and prayed for them all to be negative.

But that was before the Covenant.

In two weeks, I’d gone from being an orphan raised by nuns, to the latest in a long line of only daughters. Women charged with the protection and well-being of hundreds of people with unique powers. Some made flame burn for hours, while others called the wind to knock you flat on your ass. They were a group of people who came together over two-hundred years ago, bound by a prophecy. One with no past, lost in the present, will bring in the future, through gifts of both this world and the next.

And lucky me, I’d passed the job interview.

I’d sent Hart to a muddy, watery grave-literally. Unless something went crazy wrong, he’d stay under the Mississippi until the Final Judgment. Williams ruled the vampires of the city now and kept his distance as much as possible.

And I, Jude Magdalyn Henries, led the Covenant. Maybe I wasn’t terrific at it. But Gillian would be proud.

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